A Lack of Color
by marianna
Summary: Set the day after the mess at the end of 2x20. Logan has been trying to win Veronica all day with no avail. Not as bad as I'm totally making it out to be, but I suck at summaries.


"Veronica." Weary, she turns up to look at you. Her eyes are locked, her gaze not on you, not really, but at the spot behind your head. At least she's not running away screaming. You take a small comfort in that. "What you saw-it wasn't…" The words won't come. You've rehearsed this speech so many times, can do it in your sleep with your eyes closed, but now that you have her here, standing right in front of you and looking more beautiful than you think you've ever seen her, you can't remember any of it. And then, for the first time since you cornered her, she looks into your eyes. And laughs. But the sound isn't anything like you've ever heard before.

"Save it, Logan." She mutters, slamming her locker and pushing past you. Her voice is steely, and you want to run after her, grab her in your arms-and then do what? Obviously the power of speech escapes you when she's around. That doesn't bode well for your cause. "You know what?" The hair on the back of your neck stands as you turn back to face her, her fingers standing to attention on her petite hips. "_I'm_ not leaving. _I_ have to clean out my locker so Clemmons can give me my 3-dollar deposit back. _You_ can leave. You're the one that came and bothered me anyway." She edges past you with her elbow, her fingers adeptly unlocking the cheap metal lock.

"Veronica I'm _sorry_." The words sound pathetic even as they fall from your lips and the look she shoots you is pure malice. She shudders, almost slamming her locker closed again, but then-surprisingly she looks up at you. Really looks, and then there's that laugh again. It's filled more with pain than with laughter, and your heart twists.

"Logan, that's _shit_." She replies, her tone mocking your own, her eyes brimming over with anger and, you think, the faintest sheen of tears. Great. You've made her cry again. Twice in _two_ days. There's a record somewhere you've broken, you're sure of it. You close your eyes for the merest of seconds; you can't bear to look at her. Not like this. But yesterday's tears fill your consciousness, and you're snapping your eyes open again, unable to escape her distress, appalled that it's managed to seep into your unconscious, but not really surprised.

"Veronica-" You start again, your fingers reaching out to touch the worn black fabric of her sweatshirt sleeve. She stiffens before you even move, and your stomach drops. She's repulsed already and you're not even close yet.

"What, Logan?" Her eyes are impenetrable, but you could place that tone anywhere. She's softening-she's _breaking_, and you don't even have a response to give her. "Tell me. Say it. All day you've been trying to get me alone, well now you have me. And we're practically alone." She gestures around the hallway, and almost magically, people begin to filter out. "I mean, there's nothing that you can say to me that you can't say in front of-" She squints as she glances at the only other two people lingering in the hallway. "Chase and Amanda. We're _old_ pals." Crossing her arms, she leans back against the yellow metal of Wallace's locker, and stares you straight in the eye. You, of course, choke. _Again_. After a full minute of starting at her, your lips unwilling to move, she nods once, and as she turns you can swear you see tears.

"I just don't-" She cuts you off, holding her hand back behind her to silence you and shoulders heaving, she turns back, a wry smile tipping her lips. Her eyes are rimmed and red.

"It's Okay, you know, it really is. It's fine. You were drinking out of a _champagne bottle_, Logan. I should've put two and two together. It's really my fault for reading more into it than there was." She won't look at you, her eyes fixed vacantly on the empty locker before her, her fingers drumming on the door. "But the thing is," Suddenly she's close, her lips-and the rest of her, only a few inches away. She hasn't realized that you've moved yet, and she's talking a mile a minute. "The thing is, I wanted to believe you. I did. I don't know why, considering well…considering you're you and-" _Considering you're you._ Your blood runs cold at the words, even though you know she speaks the truth. It's almost as if the world is in slow motion as you grab and kiss her. She isn't expecting it, to be sure, which is probably why her defenses are down, and why she lets you kiss her, allows you to pull her closer, your fingers tangling in her hair. Your lips are crushing against hers as if for dear life and for a second, she's holding close too. Of course, _she_ breaks away first, using the back of her palm to wipe her lips, her eyes wild as they stare in yours. "What the hell was that?" She asks when she's finally regained her breath.

"I-I-"

"God, you suck at the verbal, today. And to think, we used to be on the same level." She manages some sort of snort as she slams her locker door and turns to walk away. You'd have missed her touching her fingers to her lips if she hadn't missteped and you hadn't been rushing to her side anyway. So much for indifference.

"Veronica." Your voice breaks as you reach for her again, but this time, instead of fighting, she kisses you back-and it's like heaven. Or the closest _you'll_ ever get there, anyway. Her lips are hot against yours, and as you kiss her skin, you taste the salt of her tears, want to pull back and take care of her, but she won't accept that-you don't even know why she's accepting _this_, but hell if you're going to let her go without a fight.

"I hate you. You understand that I hate you, don't you?" She asks, dragging her lips away from yours for what seems like the longest instant of you life. She moans softly as you nip at the sensitive spot on her neck, and you nod once, because even if she does hate you, she's not running yet. And that's better than nothing. Pushing her against the metal of the lockers, your hands roam all over her, mapping your course in case this is the last time, committing everything to memory and dotting little kisses all over her. It dawns on you suddenly that you're doing this in an open hallway in view of anyone choosing to come through the left corridor, but if she doesn't care, than you don't either. You couldn't stop kissing her if you'd wanted to-and you really don't want to. "Logan," She breathes, your name a throaty whisper on her lips, and you lick your lips, branding them with hers, marking her as yours.

"Veronica," You gulp against her lips, your voice raw and throaty in a way it's never been before. Your breathing heavy against her neck, your head buried there, your voice muffled. "We've got to get out of here. Somehow I doubt having sex in our high school hallway would be the best of ideas." You're watching her face as your words dawn on her, and are absurdly glad that you've still got her pinned to the lockers when she starts to squirm for her freedom.

"I can't believe I just did that. I hate you, Logan. I do." She looks away from you, her eyes filling with tears again, a disgusted look crossing her features.

"You don't believe that," You whisper against her neck, your lips dotting kisses all over.

"I'm not going to sleep with you. I won't be a notch in your bedpost directly _after_ Whory _McSkank_, but _before_ eager freshman number 2. God, I'm dumb." She eases away from you, her hands shaking as she wipes them against her palms.

"Veronica…you were never a notch on my bedpost." Your voice is calm-as calm as you can be after an experience like that and a raging hard-on in your pants.

"Oh, yeah?" She asks, turning back to face you, disbelief oozing from her every pore. "You sure moved on fast after Alternaprom. I'm mean god, you didn't get to kiss me, and then there you were, jumping into the arms of the next willing hooker. Where should I have expected my tip, the bedside table or the kitchen counter? Or maybe since I've had _so_ little experience there wouldn't have been a tip at all." She shakes her head, turning to leave, her anger salving her wounds like a balm.

"God, Veronica will you wait a second?" Thanking whatever deity looking over for you right now for your agility, you grab her arm lightly, your fingers barely grazing her skin.

"What?" The anger is gone now, disappeared before it even fully came in, and in its place is the weary exhaustion you're accustomed to. It kills you to see her like this. "What could you possibly want now-to humiliate me in front of Lucky the janitor? He should be starting work soon, and I'm sure he'd love another show." She turns to go, twisting back again to glare at you as you have yet to let go of her arm. "I kind of need that to make my dramatic exit, Logan." She hisses, glaring down to where your fingers are branding her skin.

"I just-I just wanted you to know something," You finally spit out, your first almost sentence of the day. Now if you could only finish it, life would be a party.

"What's that?" You can tell she doesn't want to hear this. If not for the scowl marring her pretty face, the crossed arms and tapping fingers surely would have been a tip off.

"I didn't sleep with Kendall." If she were expecting anything, it definitely wasn't this. Her eyes widen the tiniest bit, imperceptible if you hadn't been looking so intently at her face.

"_This_ time. But…I don't really care who you screw. Although, word to the wise, it would probably be best if they were over 16. Statutory rape laws and all that." She takes the opportunity of your slack jawed surprise to wriggle out of your grasp and walk away.

"Wait, will you just wait?" She stops moving, and you crash into her, your eyes meeting hers.

"I have to go to work in a half a hour. After that, I have _13_ different scholarship applications to finish before sending them off tomorrow-a full month and a half before they are due, so I can have enough money to go to college far, far away from here. You've already wasted-" She glances down at her watch, the frown lines etching themselves on her face. "You've already wasted an hour of my time and all we're doing running is in circles. It was completely uncharacteristic for me to come to the suite yesterday, I think the tox fumes radiating off you must have fucked up my head from proximity, because either way, I don't care who you do or don't screw. I just want you to let me go, forget this ever happened and go on my merry way as far from Neptune as possible." She nods down at your hand on her arm again, and this time you let go without a fight. She's gone already, and there's nothing you can do. "If I did care though-" Her voice permeates through the black haze surrounding you, cutting through the montage of all the happy times you'd shared. "If I did care-which I don't, but if I did. The fact that you didn't sleep with Whore-Ke-I can't do this, with the whore previously _known_ as Kendall-huh, sort of like Prince, it would make me feel better. Not great, mind you, but better." She smiles wanly at you for a second, and then she's gone, the light scent of her perfume lingering in the hall behind her.


End file.
